


But He Comes Home (to me)

by AngeNoir



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Biting, Breeding (kink), Desperate Sex, Desperation, Fucked Raw, Held Down, Jealousy, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Minor Angst, Possessive Behavior, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a lot that worries Foggy, makes him anxious, makes him nervous.</p><p>The one thing he has that calms him down, that makes him happy, is that there might be a lot of things Matt does that worries him, but Matt comes home to him, every time.</p><p>That counts for a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But He Comes Home (to me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arysteia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysteia/gifts).



Foggy loves looking at Matt like this.

Matt is beautiful all the time, honestly – Foggy, in his college years, in his freshman English when they had to write poems and experiment with rhythm and meter, wrote love poems that were all inspired by Matt in some way. But Matt is especially striking like this.

He’s spread out on the bed, hands stretched up by his head, eyes staring up and lip caught between his teeth. His legs, spread, hips making small jerking movements as he tried to fight his instincts to thrust up, wanting some type of friction. He was, also, more than a little of a slut in this sense – he knew Foggy was standing there, he knew Foggy was watching him, and he might be getting a bit desperate, but he also was putting on a show.

He was always so put-together. He always was so controlled, wound so tight. He worried and he made decisions, and Foggy had no grudges against that. He had no problems with letting Matt doing all that, because they weren't traditionalists, right? They weren’t. Foggy _hated_ those alphas that had to swing their knot around like it made them better than others. Matt was the strongest person he knew, and both his first and secondary gender had nothing to do with that. That had to go with Matt’s iron will, Matt’s strength, Matt’s innate self-sufficiency. Foggy would never want to step on that.

But Foggy would be a liar if he said he didn’t wait for Matt, heart in his throat, hoping that _this_ wasn’t the night Matt was lying dead on a rooftop or in an alley somewhere. And when Matt came home, beat up and pretending everything was fine – or, hell, maybe he wasn’t ever pretending, maybe he really thought coming home bloody and beaten up was actually fine.

Foggy stepped around the side of the bed, watching as Matt twitched his head to follow Foggy’s progress. Not that Foggy was going to let him keep thinking – he was definitely going to test that iron control.

He trailed fingers up Matt’s leg, watching Matt twitch and start to move.

“Stop moving, Matty,” Foggy murmured, and Matt bit harder down on his lip and stilled his movements.

“You seem really hyped up, you know?” Foggy said conversationally. “Tonight go really well for you?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, a little breathless, lips bitten red and those expressive eyes staring up at Foggy. If there was one thing Foggy absolutely loved about Matt’s eyes, it was that emotions were reflected purely, cleanly there. He never had to guess about Matt’s intentions when he could see his eyes.

“I can tell,” Foggy hummed, getting up on to the bed and crawling over Matt’s legs so he sat in the V of Matt’s spread legs. “You’re so desperate and needy right now, Matt. You’re beautiful.”

Matt tilted his head, tried to hide his face against his bicep, and for right now, he was following instructions beautifully, but Foggy was going to break that, was going to have Matt begging soon enough. For now, he ran his hands down Matt’s sides, slotting his thumbs and hands over the cut of Matt’s hips, lifting Matt’s ass slightly up as he scooted a little forward.

He tried to ignore the bruises, the scars. Tried to ignore the slightly dark areas of skin that would become deep black by tomorrow morning, tried to ignore the thin cut that had already scabbed but meant someone had caught Matt with a knife. He was going to place _his_ mark on Matt, now, and his marks were all that mattered in the long run.

It wasn’t Matt’s heat – Matt carefully regulated his heats, took birth control pills religiously, which was something he was touchy about since the Catholic church wasn’t all that keen on omegas controlling when they had kids or not – but Matt was worked up enough that small residual amounts of slick trickled out of his ass, made thin, tiny trails that revealed how eager Matt was. If there was one thing Foggy could say about Matt’s work as Daredevil, it was that it certainly worked him up and the adrenaline got him going.

Taking the small tube of lube, Foggy squirted some on his fingers, warmed it up as he pressed the heel of his hand on Matt’s abdomen, held his twitching hips still. “Shh, Matty. We’re gonna get there. You trust me.”

“Completely,” Matt breathed out, nostrils flaring. “Always, Foggy.”

Foggy smiled, and slid his fingers to Matt’s ass, rubbed gently around the rim of Matt’s asshole. A small whine crawled out of his throat, and Foggy’s smile grew as he slid one finger into Matt, slow and easy. “Tonight _really_ worked you up, huh?”

“Please, Foggy,” Matt grunted, muscles in his thighs working and twitching as he tried to keep from squirming on Foggy’s fingers too much.

One finger, then two, then Foggy was sliding a third in, and Matt was twisting, hands coming down to grip impossibly tight on Foggy’s wrists, then on his own legs, shifting and twisting. Foggy spared half a thought to move Matt’s hands up, and Matt clenched them in fists against his head while Foggy turned back to his task. Now was not the time to get on him for not following instructions; Foggy was slicking up his cock, letting it be a little tight because that’s what they liked – Matt, to feel it the next day, to have Foggy’s mark on him in that most hidden and unseen way, and for Foggy to feel Matt’s body give underneath his, open up, spread apart to let him sink in. Inching up, he pressed his cock close, pushed his hands under Matt’s knees and started to bend him in half, press down in as deep as possible.

“Mine,” he said, deep and guttural as he sank, bit by slow bit, watching Matt squirm and pant and arch underneath him. Matt loved it, was babbling almost underneath Foggy, and Foggy was murmuring small praises, small descriptions, aiming to keep Matt wild, until finally Foggy was seated as deep in as he could get, his cock entirely sheathed in Matt’s heat, the lube wet and aided by the small bits of slick that created that rich, thick smell that drove Foggy wild.

“Yours, always yours,” Matt panted, gasping and wriggling a little, testing how much he could move with Foggy bent down on top of him, speared in his ass. There wasn’t a lot he could do; he did, Foggy supposed, have leverage, but currently his knees were pretty much over Foggy’s shoulders, his shoulders and head pressed hard against the mattress, his arms quivering and twitching as Matt would start to move them down, then remember he was supposed to keep them still and put them back up by his head. The red flush of arousal mottled his chest, and his eyes kept darting back and forth, always in Foggy’s direction, but never directly looking at Foggy. His hair was wet, slicked down with sweat, and Foggy grinned as he tilted Matt’s hips, rearranged Matt to his liking, and then began to _thrust_.

Matt couldn’t jackknife up, though it definitely looked like he had tried to, jerking forward and then slamming his head back on the pillows, gasping, mouth working as he tried to drag in air and exhale all at the same time.

Foggy turned his head, bit at Matt’s lower thigh, by his knee, and then sucked, hard and dark, and Matt’s legs twitched, jerking on Foggy’s shoulders. “Fog – Foggy, _Fog – gy_ ,” Matt begged, forgetting the placement of his hands as he reached for Foggy’s wrists, held on tight.

“You’re _mine_ , Matty, you are all _mine_ ,” Foggy grunted, pumping forward, using the position and his weight to pretty much hold Matt immobile – not that Matt was complaining. His cock was an angry red, and one of his hands started to move to it.

“Don’t you dare, Matty,” Foggy growled, and the full-body shudder that Matt did after that noise was gratifying and exhilarating. “You will come on my dick or not at all. You got that?”

“Fog _gyyy_ ,” Matt whined, breathless, unable to make noise because he was panting so hard.

Foggy shifted the angle of his dick, tilted Matt’s ass even more up, and fucked his cock into Matt’s greedy hole, dragging it over that one spot as much as he could.

Underneath him, Matt was a mess, the light showing how splotchy and red his blush was, his muscles twitching and jerking as he fought his own body, his cock a deep, angry red, leaking profusely. Foggy turned his head to Matt’s other leg, bit down and sucked.

With a wail, Matt came, cum oozing out of his cock and dripping down onto his chest and chin, painting a pretty picture. There were very few times when Foggy really put stock in what all those alpha and omega purists said, but there was something viscerally satisfying at the sight of cum anointing Matt’s face and chest, something deeply gratifying about watching Matt go boneless, almost rag-doll like as he fought to recover his breath. He wanted to take a picture, immortalize this forever – but he’d have tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after.

He himself was still hard, but he had a different idea now, and he carefully, gently, eased out and eased Matt down. Matt’s ass dripped bits of slick and lube, gaping and the rim twitching as he sought out something to put in his ass, and to be honest Foggy zeroed in on that and nearly forgot his plan until Matt whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Alright, we’re fine,” Foggy murmured, guiding Matt’s floppy arms and legs so he was face down, back arched to push his ass up, and then Foggy was sliding back in, sliding _home_.

Matt made a contented grumble and Foggy felt his muscles twitch as if he was trying to clench around Foggy but was too exhausted to do so.

“Attaboy,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against Matt’s shoulder, then biting down. “My Matt,” he said, once he’d darkened last night’s bruise. There were other bruises, of course, other marks and scars, but his bruises remained, and he freshened them daily, small claiming bites that he looked at like this and envisioned a safe life for Matt, a life that they were both content with.

Matt hummed and pulled his knees up a little more, pushed his ass out a bit more, snuggled into the pillows. “You gonna finish in me, Foggy?”

And, hell, Foggy knew Matt was on birth control, knew that it was his own fantasy and one that Matt didn’t really indicate he ever wanted, but tonight, Matt had been late enough coming back that he was already strung out, so he pressed a hand underneath Matt, up against Matt’s flat belly. “Yeah, I’m gonna come in you, Matt,” he grunted, imagining his cum seeping in, sinking in. Imagining it catch and quicken, Matt’s belly growing round and tight and beautiful. “Gonna plant right into you, fill you up so much.”

Matt let out a grunt, then a soft whine as he tried to lift his ass even higher, one hand sliding down to sit on top of Foggy’s hand, press against Matt’s belly. “Yours, Foggy,” he moaned quietly.

“Yeah, all mine,” Foggy growled, biting down against Matt’s shoulder again, and he could see it so clearly, their fingers laced over Matt’s stomach, knowing that Matt was pregnant because of _him_ , being safe at home and with an adorable son or daughter that had Matt’s quick smile and scruffy hair, his smarts and his beautiful eyes, and that was it, he was swelling up in Matt’s ass, excited enough and with enough incentive from his mate that his knot decided to lock the two of them together.

Matt made a small desperate noise and twitched, almost pushing his ass backwards, trying to get onto Foggy’s cock even more, and that was all she wrote. Foggy was coming, pouring out his come into Matt’s ass, so much that some was seeping out past his knot a bit, frothing white with the lube and Matt’s own slick.

When Foggy could finally see straight again, he gently pulled Matt to the side – rolling with him, since he was locked into Matt’s ass for the next fifteen minutes – and pulled Matt close to his chest.

Their fingers were still interlaced over Matt’s belly, and Foggy felt guilty at wanting a kid just to keep Matt off the streets and safe. Pushing away his guilt, he pressed a soft kiss to Matt’s ear and murmured, “What got you so worked up tonight?”

“Everybody wins,” Matt mumbled, voice sleepy and slurred. “No one died. Saved the kids. Good night. S’why I do it.”

“I know,” Foggy whispered, and if he clutched a little tighter, spooned a little closer, what was there to matter or notice? Matt was his, and he always came home, and he always _would_ come home.

Foggy had to believe that.


End file.
